Shuffling her maps, Emma trotted down the hill. A bright red convertible, low-slung and top down, pulled up alongside her. At the wheel was the handsome little fellow who’d guided her group. “Why didn’t you stay for lunch?” he asked. She looked down. “I’m wearing jeans, and I’m carrying too much,” she replied. “You would have been fine,” he said. “I just didn’t feel right,” she said. “Well, it’s teatime – let me take you somewhere,” he said. She paused. “My mother told me never to get in cars with strange men.” He laughed. “Come on – just pretend I’m your cabbie!”

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"Classic"100-WordStories﻿

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